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ashinaeMoments in Time
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ashinae
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Rating: R
Pairings: Merry/Pippin, Merry/Pippin/Boromir
Summary: Merry and Pippin have plans for Boromir.
Warnings: Interspecies. Threesome. Not explicit.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I just like to play with them.
Notes: Originally written 2 April, 2002. My utmost thanks to Lovely Lavonne for all her late-night input :)
Moments in Time
"You're plotting, aren't you?"
"That's a horrible thing to say. I am merely... speculating."
"That's a blatant lie and we are both well aware of it."
"I'm hurt that you would say such a thing!"
"Pippin. You're plotting. I can tell you're plotting because you aren't paying me any attention."
"What are you going on about? You have my undivided attention."
"I think that Boromir has your undivided attention."
"What a thing to suggest! I'm trying to sleep. It's been a horribly long day."
Pippin heard a rustle from behind, then Merry was pressed up against his back. "If you're trying to sleep, then why are you talking?"
"I think that I'm talking in my sleep. Now hush."
There was accusation in Merry's voice when he spoke again. "You're watching him."
"I think he's watching us." Pippin grinned to himself, holding back a delighted laugh.
"Go on." Merry quieted for a moment as he peered into the darkness. "He's not."
"He is too!"
"He's not!"
"He is!"
"He's keeping watch, Pippin. He's supposed to be watching."
"Watching, yes, I'll give you that. But he's not supposed to be staring at us as we sleep."
"Well, with all that talking of yours, who could possibly get any sleep?"
"You started it."
"No, you did. You were plotting so loudly I'm surprised you didn't wake everyone."
"That's a horrible thing to say, Meriadoc, and I think I'm going to go to sleep now."
"Fine."
"Fine."
"Good."
"Right."
"Good night."
"'Night, Pip."
"He's very lovely, isn't he?"
"We're not having this conversation again."
"Merry! He's lovely, isn't he?"
Merry heaved a sigh. "Certainly, Pippin."
"And he's ticklish. Do you remember that he's very ticklish?"
"Yes, Pippin."
"And above all else, I do believe he thinks of us as his own. His own hobbits, Merry! Fancy that."
"We aren't entertaining this."
"But he's so lovely!"
"I'll give you that. But it's no reason to carry on like this."
Pouting, Pippin twined his arms around Merry's neck. "You always entertain my ideas," he said, a plaintive note in his voice. Softly, he nuzzled Merry's neck. "Why not this one?"
"Because it's particularly ridiculous." Merry's voice caught in his throat as Pippin's hands slid down his back and rested on his hips, pulling him ever closer. He tenderly kissed both of Pippin's cheeks, then Pippin's lips, before taking that fine, beloved face between his hands. Though he spoke firmly, a smile softened his features. "Even for you, Pip."
Still, Pippin pouted. "That's never stopped you before."
Pippin set himself down on a rock next to Merry. There was a delighted grin on his face and his eyes danced with mirth. He heard Merry's soft sigh and took note, feeling ever more delighted, of how difficult it seemed for Merry to turn his gaze to him. Pippin leaned in close and spoke in a conspiratorial whisper.
"You were staring at him."
Merry shifted his eyes away again, and Pippin's grin grew ever broader as he followed that gaze. Boromir sat some distance away, watching as Aragorn gave Frodo and Sam a lesson in swordplay.
"Unlike some hobbits I know," Merry replied, "I don't stare."
"Now, Merry, play nice."
"I'm not playing."
"No, I've noticed, and it's starting to make me very bored." Pippin leaned in and whispered again. "I think you should play with me more often, like you used to."
Merry nudged him with an elbow. "I don't think I'm going to play with you unless you stop indulging these... these... ideas!"
Pippin was silent for a moment, drawing back as he looked over at Boromir again. "Have you noticed how much attention Strider pays to Frodo?"
A vaguely pained tone entered Merry's voice. "Pippin, stop."
"Play with me," Pippin insisted. He looked over and smiled brightly at Boromir. "I do think it's time for another lesson."
There was a Look in Pippin's eyes that was unmistakable and plain as the light of day. There it was, right there, right there--and Merry wasn't entirely certain that his resolve could hold out against that Look currently being cast in his direction. Once Pippin had an idea in his head--foolish, dangerous even, but always ever so tempting--he would not back down. Naturally Merry often enjoyed indulging his Pippin's fancies, but this was an altogether different matter.
He wanted to play, but was honestly afraid to tell Pippin that they should go ahead and get on with the "game." Honestly, when was the last time he had outright denied Pippin what he wanted? Pippin wanted Boromir and felt inclined to share, which Merry had to admit did make him feel a bit better.
Merry started to feel the heat rising up to his cheeks the instant Pippin spoke the word "privacy" to Boromir. After that, he began to go on about any number of "what ifs" and he had actually reached out and taken Boromir by the hand to lead him off into the trees. And -- poor, silly Man -- Boromir hadn't appeared to even think twice about the idea. It was beginning to look more and more like Merry had very little say in their situation, but that didn't stop him from trying to come up with any number of ways to grab hold of Pippin and take him as far away from temptation as possible.
The next thing he was really aware of was the fact that he was falling face-first to the ground. Boromir, bless his heart, was instantly kneeling by his side and helping him back to his feet to make sure he hadn't been injured, and Pippin was apologising profusely for tripping him.
Somehow, Merry tuned out the sound of Pippin's voice and simply looked at Boromir. He really was very lovely, with his grey eyes concerned, his lips perfectly kissable, and that one lock of hair that had Merry's fingers itching to brush it back from his forehead. He swallowed reflexively when Boromir looked up at him and gifted him with a smile -- a smile that sometimes seemed reserved for them.
Merry tore his gaze from the man's eyes and looked over at Pippin, who, despite the tone of his voice, didn't look in the least bit sorry for causing his dearest, closest friend physical harm.
He did it on purpose! Merry thought, staring at Pippin in shock.
Boromir missed the look shared between the two hobbits as he tended to Merry with more attention than was perhaps really necessary. Once he was finished, he smiled again into Merry's eyes and patted his shoulder. "There now," he said softly, "there's just a little scratch. Nothing at all to be worried about. You'll be as good as new before you know it."
Merry paused a brief fraction of a moment, his mind racing. If Pippin wanted to play, then, he might as well have a game! He looked solemnly at Boromir. "Thank you," he said, and promptly wrapped his arms around the man's neck and kissed him soundly full on the lips.
There was silence for a moment. Merry watched as Boromir blinked, once, twice; out of the corner of his eye, he could see Pippin's stunned expression.
He had not even been aware that he was holding his breath until Boromir suddenly smiled, and reached out to ruffle his hair.
"Come on, then," Boromir said. "The others will start to miss us if we are gone for too long."
"Merry?"
"I'm not talking to you."
"And why not?"
"Because you purposefully tripped me."
"Well, you weren't badly hurt..."
"Pippin!"
"Did it hurt much?"
"That's not the point."
"Then what is the point?"
"That I'm not talking to you."
"Fine."
"Fine."
Merry closed his eyes as Pippin fell silent. He let out a soft sigh, and felt himself drifting off into slumber, when Pippin's soft voice broke the gentle haze of oncoming sleep.
"Well--well, I'm not talking to you, either."
"That's good. I can get some sleep, then."
Pippin rolled over and moved just a little closer to Merry. "Don't you want to know why I'm not talking to you?"
"You're going to tell me no matter what I say."
"That's right. And let me tell you why I'm not talking to you. You kissed him! You went and actually kissed him! You spoiled everything, and I'll never forgive you for it."
Merry rolled onto his side, facing away from Pippin and trying to hide his self-satisfied grin. "Never is such a long time, Pip."
"Hmph!"
Silence fell between them again. Opening his eyes, Merry rolled onto his back and stared up at the stars for a few moments, then he closed what distance remained between himself and Pippin.
"Pip?"
Pippin didn't respond, and Merry gently slid his arm over Pippin's hips.
"Pippin..."
"I'm mad at you."
"I can see that. Will you stay mad at me for very long?"
"Yes."
"Oh, dear. That is a problem, isn't it?"
"Merry! I'd thank you very kindly if you'd remove your... oh. Ohh..."
"Mmhmm. Do you want to know what I think we should do?"
"Ohh..."
"Is that a yes?"
"Oh!"
"That's what I thought. Well, you see, my dearest Pippin, I was thinking..."
"We've known each other for a very long time, haven't we, Merry?"
"Yes, Pippin."
Stepping up behind Merry, Pippin wrapped his arms around the other hobbit's shoulders and dropped his voice to a whisper. "Then why did you never let on that you had such a devious streak in you?"
Merry had enough decency to blush. "I'm not devious," he replied softly. "I'm merely... playing your game. Don't we always play each other's games?"
Pippin didn't say anything for a moment. They both gazed over at Boromir, who seemed to be deep in conversation with Aragorn. "I think this stopped being a game the instant you started to become serious about it," he said.
Merry glanced over his shoulder, giving Pippin a wide-eyed stare. "You're not going to tell me that you were never serious about all this, are you?" he asked, feeling just a tad ill all of a sudden.
But Pippin flashed him a quick grin. "Of course I've been serious," he said. "When have you ever known me to be anything but?" Merry's expression now clearly read, Do you honestly want me to answer that? Pippin rushed on. "And anyway, how do I let an opportunity like this go by?"
This time, Merry grinned back at Pippin. "All right, then," he said, starting to feel relaxed again. He reached up and placed his hands over Pippin's forearms as they both returned to watching Boromir. "So he did promise you, didn't he? After supper?"
"Yes--after supper."
"And he's all ours?"
"All ours."
Time seemed to slow to a crawl before supper was over and they all allowed themselves to settle down for the night. Frodo and Sam were sequestered just a little bit apart from the others, huddled close together. Sam was tenderly holding one of Frodo's hands with both of his. Legolas and Gimli were sitting suspiciously close to one another as they spoke with Gandalf and Aragorn. Merry and Pippin knew that once they stole Boromir away from the others, no one would really miss them for a while.
The two hobbits shared a quick glance, and approached Boromir. Pippin put on his best "I am ever so helpless" expression--Boromir fell for it so very easily--and they both reached out to take one of Boromir's hands and pulled him to his feet. They looked at each other again around Boromir's back and Merry winked, causing Pippin to burst into a fit of laughter. Boromir frowned down at them, and Pippin immediately launched into a complicated tale involving a lazy summer afternoon, a very poorly crafted raft, a robin, some mushrooms, and two young hobbits getting in over their heads. Pippin's words stumbled over themselves, and Merry interrupted occasionally, and Boromir listened to them for quite some time with a contented smile on his face.
By the time the story was over, they were all sitting together in a small clearing some way from their camp, the grass sweet-smelling and cool beneath them. It wasn't long before the lesson was forgotten completely. Boromir sat between the hobbits, and they occasionally leaned over him as they spoke, and two eager, lovely faces would look up at him and he found that he truly did not want the evening to end.
When Boromir laughed out loud at yet another near-unbelievable tale, Pippin launched himself into the man's arms. Boromir was caught by surprise and found himself flat on his back, staring up into Pippin's eyes with a rather startled expression shining up from his own gaze.
"If only you would do that more often, Boromir!" Pippin cried out, impulsively kissing the end of Boromir's nose.
"Laugh, you mean?" Boromir questioned.
"Oh, yes," Merry said quickly, nodding as he leaned over to look down at Boromir. "It's a lovely sound, and we don't hear it often enough."
Pippin looked over at Merry with an impish grin. "Why, I think I'd like to hear it again. Wouldn't you?"
"I would," Merry replied.
With that, Boromir found himself with double armfuls of giggling hobbits intent at finding every ticklish spot on his body. He tried to contain his helpless laughter, but failed miserably. When he started to tickle back, however, Merry and Pippin relented and pulled away from him. They watched as he wiped a tear form his eye, still chuckling softly, before he gave them a bit of a frown.
"That was hardly fair," he accused. "Two of you, against just one of me? I didn't stand a chance."
Though they knew he was only teasing, Pippin and Merry looked solemnly back at him. "No," Merry said.
"You certainly didn't," Pippin agreed. He paused, then glanced over to Merry. "Did he ever?"
"No, never," Merry said. "Not a single chance in the whole of the world, against us."
Boromir barely had the opportunity to register the change in Merry's tone of voice before both hobbits were on top of him again. His eyes closed and he swallowed when he felt two pairs of lips tenderly kissing his cheeks. A sigh escaped past his lips, and he opened his eyes again, feeling just a little bemused as Pippin's hand came up to turn his face so that he could be gifted with the most tender of kisses. They shared his mouth between them, and he watched their flushed faces as they tasted his lips. Each kiss seemed sweeter, more wonderful, than the last, and he wondered if perhaps he was dreaming.
Pippin and Merry paused for a brief moment, looking up into each other's eyes and seeming to share a wordless conversation. They leaned over to each other and shared a kiss of their own, and Boromir bit his lip so hard he tasted blood; they were truly a sight to behold. He held them tenderly to his chest as they began to kiss him anew, and he returned their kisses with unending gentleness, just as they knew he would. Soft sounds of excitement caressed his ears just as two hands started to ease away his clothing.
It wasn't until then that Boromir began to protest, but Merry smothered the words with his lips. He softly whispered, "We want to. Please don't ask us to stop," and Boromir's only response was a light moan that was part surrender, part joy, and all theirs.
Sweet hands and sweeter lips soon played across his flesh; teasing, caressing, tasting, pulling moans from him that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul. His own hands slid over smooth skin and through soft, curling hair, guiding them over and over again back to his lips, for he knew he would never tire of such gentle, loving kisses. Try as he might, he could never drink his fill from their mouths.
They stayed in that spot for quite some time. All was quiet save for three voices joined in expressing exquisite pleasure. None was aware of how long passed, nor did they truly care. The only thing that was of any importance was now, as they were tangled together, flesh against flesh and mouth against mouth. Boromir delighted in watching Merry and Pippin share their pleasure together, and they delighted in seeing his fair face alit with the ecstasy that they were bringing him.
Too soon, there was no more any of them could bear. Merry and Pippin stifled their full, loud cries against Boromir's flesh; Boromir's raw, unashamed moan was given up to the trees above. He held them both to him for a little while longer, unwilling and unable to let them go. As they slowly pulled away, he looked into their faces, and saw the tears shining in Pippin's eyes. Boromir and Merry smiled at him, and they both kissed him again. Boromir stroked the hair back from Pippin's face, as Merry leaned in and breathed into Pippin's ear, "I love you."
The return to the camp was a quiet affair. Merry and Pippin whispered between themselves, and sounded an occasional laugh, as they settled down to sleep in a spot between Frodo and Sam, and Boromir.
"Merry."
"Yes, Pip?"
"You've got a twig stuck in your hair."
"Oh..."
"Here, here, I've got it."
"Thank you, Pippin."
"You're very welcome. Merry?"
"Yes?"
"All in all, I'd say this was an excellent day."
"Oh, yes." Merry settled down on his side, looking across at Boromir with a soft smile as Pippin snuggled up behind him. Boromir looked back at them both with an expression that was in part amazement--as though he was still not quite able to believe what had just transpired -- but was also intensely pleased. Merry's smile broadened as he saw such happiness on the man's face, and judging from the arm squeezing him tightly, he assumed that Pippin approved of it as well.
Merry gave a contented sigh and wrapped his fingers around Pippin's hand. "An excellent day, indeed," he said, and closed his eyes. He toyed with the idea of pretending to sleep when Pippin nudged him a few moments later, but he decided against it.
"What, Pippin?"
"I think we should keep him."
"I won't argue with that idea. I think, you could almost say he's lost without us."
"Terribly lost. I think he needs us."
"And he will be our very own."
"Yes, that's it. Our very own."
"Pippin?"
"Yes, Merry?"
"What a splendid idea this was."
---
Author:
ashinaeFandom: Lord of the Rings
Rating: R
Pairings: Merry/Pippin, Merry/Pippin/Boromir
Summary: Merry and Pippin have plans for Boromir.
Warnings: Interspecies. Threesome. Not explicit.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I just like to play with them.
Notes: Originally written 2 April, 2002. My utmost thanks to Lovely Lavonne for all her late-night input :)
"You're plotting, aren't you?"
"That's a horrible thing to say. I am merely... speculating."
"That's a blatant lie and we are both well aware of it."
"I'm hurt that you would say such a thing!"
"Pippin. You're plotting. I can tell you're plotting because you aren't paying me any attention."
"What are you going on about? You have my undivided attention."
"I think that Boromir has your undivided attention."
"What a thing to suggest! I'm trying to sleep. It's been a horribly long day."
Pippin heard a rustle from behind, then Merry was pressed up against his back. "If you're trying to sleep, then why are you talking?"
"I think that I'm talking in my sleep. Now hush."
There was accusation in Merry's voice when he spoke again. "You're watching him."
"I think he's watching us." Pippin grinned to himself, holding back a delighted laugh.
"Go on." Merry quieted for a moment as he peered into the darkness. "He's not."
"He is too!"
"He's not!"
"He is!"
"He's keeping watch, Pippin. He's supposed to be watching."
"Watching, yes, I'll give you that. But he's not supposed to be staring at us as we sleep."
"Well, with all that talking of yours, who could possibly get any sleep?"
"You started it."
"No, you did. You were plotting so loudly I'm surprised you didn't wake everyone."
"That's a horrible thing to say, Meriadoc, and I think I'm going to go to sleep now."
"Fine."
"Fine."
"Good."
"Right."
"Good night."
"'Night, Pip."
"He's very lovely, isn't he?"
"We're not having this conversation again."
"Merry! He's lovely, isn't he?"
Merry heaved a sigh. "Certainly, Pippin."
"And he's ticklish. Do you remember that he's very ticklish?"
"Yes, Pippin."
"And above all else, I do believe he thinks of us as his own. His own hobbits, Merry! Fancy that."
"We aren't entertaining this."
"But he's so lovely!"
"I'll give you that. But it's no reason to carry on like this."
Pouting, Pippin twined his arms around Merry's neck. "You always entertain my ideas," he said, a plaintive note in his voice. Softly, he nuzzled Merry's neck. "Why not this one?"
"Because it's particularly ridiculous." Merry's voice caught in his throat as Pippin's hands slid down his back and rested on his hips, pulling him ever closer. He tenderly kissed both of Pippin's cheeks, then Pippin's lips, before taking that fine, beloved face between his hands. Though he spoke firmly, a smile softened his features. "Even for you, Pip."
Still, Pippin pouted. "That's never stopped you before."
Pippin set himself down on a rock next to Merry. There was a delighted grin on his face and his eyes danced with mirth. He heard Merry's soft sigh and took note, feeling ever more delighted, of how difficult it seemed for Merry to turn his gaze to him. Pippin leaned in close and spoke in a conspiratorial whisper.
"You were staring at him."
Merry shifted his eyes away again, and Pippin's grin grew ever broader as he followed that gaze. Boromir sat some distance away, watching as Aragorn gave Frodo and Sam a lesson in swordplay.
"Unlike some hobbits I know," Merry replied, "I don't stare."
"Now, Merry, play nice."
"I'm not playing."
"No, I've noticed, and it's starting to make me very bored." Pippin leaned in and whispered again. "I think you should play with me more often, like you used to."
Merry nudged him with an elbow. "I don't think I'm going to play with you unless you stop indulging these... these... ideas!"
Pippin was silent for a moment, drawing back as he looked over at Boromir again. "Have you noticed how much attention Strider pays to Frodo?"
A vaguely pained tone entered Merry's voice. "Pippin, stop."
"Play with me," Pippin insisted. He looked over and smiled brightly at Boromir. "I do think it's time for another lesson."
There was a Look in Pippin's eyes that was unmistakable and plain as the light of day. There it was, right there, right there--and Merry wasn't entirely certain that his resolve could hold out against that Look currently being cast in his direction. Once Pippin had an idea in his head--foolish, dangerous even, but always ever so tempting--he would not back down. Naturally Merry often enjoyed indulging his Pippin's fancies, but this was an altogether different matter.
He wanted to play, but was honestly afraid to tell Pippin that they should go ahead and get on with the "game." Honestly, when was the last time he had outright denied Pippin what he wanted? Pippin wanted Boromir and felt inclined to share, which Merry had to admit did make him feel a bit better.
Merry started to feel the heat rising up to his cheeks the instant Pippin spoke the word "privacy" to Boromir. After that, he began to go on about any number of "what ifs" and he had actually reached out and taken Boromir by the hand to lead him off into the trees. And -- poor, silly Man -- Boromir hadn't appeared to even think twice about the idea. It was beginning to look more and more like Merry had very little say in their situation, but that didn't stop him from trying to come up with any number of ways to grab hold of Pippin and take him as far away from temptation as possible.
The next thing he was really aware of was the fact that he was falling face-first to the ground. Boromir, bless his heart, was instantly kneeling by his side and helping him back to his feet to make sure he hadn't been injured, and Pippin was apologising profusely for tripping him.
Somehow, Merry tuned out the sound of Pippin's voice and simply looked at Boromir. He really was very lovely, with his grey eyes concerned, his lips perfectly kissable, and that one lock of hair that had Merry's fingers itching to brush it back from his forehead. He swallowed reflexively when Boromir looked up at him and gifted him with a smile -- a smile that sometimes seemed reserved for them.
Merry tore his gaze from the man's eyes and looked over at Pippin, who, despite the tone of his voice, didn't look in the least bit sorry for causing his dearest, closest friend physical harm.
He did it on purpose! Merry thought, staring at Pippin in shock.
Boromir missed the look shared between the two hobbits as he tended to Merry with more attention than was perhaps really necessary. Once he was finished, he smiled again into Merry's eyes and patted his shoulder. "There now," he said softly, "there's just a little scratch. Nothing at all to be worried about. You'll be as good as new before you know it."
Merry paused a brief fraction of a moment, his mind racing. If Pippin wanted to play, then, he might as well have a game! He looked solemnly at Boromir. "Thank you," he said, and promptly wrapped his arms around the man's neck and kissed him soundly full on the lips.
There was silence for a moment. Merry watched as Boromir blinked, once, twice; out of the corner of his eye, he could see Pippin's stunned expression.
He had not even been aware that he was holding his breath until Boromir suddenly smiled, and reached out to ruffle his hair.
"Come on, then," Boromir said. "The others will start to miss us if we are gone for too long."
"Merry?"
"I'm not talking to you."
"And why not?"
"Because you purposefully tripped me."
"Well, you weren't badly hurt..."
"Pippin!"
"Did it hurt much?"
"That's not the point."
"Then what is the point?"
"That I'm not talking to you."
"Fine."
"Fine."
Merry closed his eyes as Pippin fell silent. He let out a soft sigh, and felt himself drifting off into slumber, when Pippin's soft voice broke the gentle haze of oncoming sleep.
"Well--well, I'm not talking to you, either."
"That's good. I can get some sleep, then."
Pippin rolled over and moved just a little closer to Merry. "Don't you want to know why I'm not talking to you?"
"You're going to tell me no matter what I say."
"That's right. And let me tell you why I'm not talking to you. You kissed him! You went and actually kissed him! You spoiled everything, and I'll never forgive you for it."
Merry rolled onto his side, facing away from Pippin and trying to hide his self-satisfied grin. "Never is such a long time, Pip."
"Hmph!"
Silence fell between them again. Opening his eyes, Merry rolled onto his back and stared up at the stars for a few moments, then he closed what distance remained between himself and Pippin.
"Pip?"
Pippin didn't respond, and Merry gently slid his arm over Pippin's hips.
"Pippin..."
"I'm mad at you."
"I can see that. Will you stay mad at me for very long?"
"Yes."
"Oh, dear. That is a problem, isn't it?"
"Merry! I'd thank you very kindly if you'd remove your... oh. Ohh..."
"Mmhmm. Do you want to know what I think we should do?"
"Ohh..."
"Is that a yes?"
"Oh!"
"That's what I thought. Well, you see, my dearest Pippin, I was thinking..."
"We've known each other for a very long time, haven't we, Merry?"
"Yes, Pippin."
Stepping up behind Merry, Pippin wrapped his arms around the other hobbit's shoulders and dropped his voice to a whisper. "Then why did you never let on that you had such a devious streak in you?"
Merry had enough decency to blush. "I'm not devious," he replied softly. "I'm merely... playing your game. Don't we always play each other's games?"
Pippin didn't say anything for a moment. They both gazed over at Boromir, who seemed to be deep in conversation with Aragorn. "I think this stopped being a game the instant you started to become serious about it," he said.
Merry glanced over his shoulder, giving Pippin a wide-eyed stare. "You're not going to tell me that you were never serious about all this, are you?" he asked, feeling just a tad ill all of a sudden.
But Pippin flashed him a quick grin. "Of course I've been serious," he said. "When have you ever known me to be anything but?" Merry's expression now clearly read, Do you honestly want me to answer that? Pippin rushed on. "And anyway, how do I let an opportunity like this go by?"
This time, Merry grinned back at Pippin. "All right, then," he said, starting to feel relaxed again. He reached up and placed his hands over Pippin's forearms as they both returned to watching Boromir. "So he did promise you, didn't he? After supper?"
"Yes--after supper."
"And he's all ours?"
"All ours."
Time seemed to slow to a crawl before supper was over and they all allowed themselves to settle down for the night. Frodo and Sam were sequestered just a little bit apart from the others, huddled close together. Sam was tenderly holding one of Frodo's hands with both of his. Legolas and Gimli were sitting suspiciously close to one another as they spoke with Gandalf and Aragorn. Merry and Pippin knew that once they stole Boromir away from the others, no one would really miss them for a while.
The two hobbits shared a quick glance, and approached Boromir. Pippin put on his best "I am ever so helpless" expression--Boromir fell for it so very easily--and they both reached out to take one of Boromir's hands and pulled him to his feet. They looked at each other again around Boromir's back and Merry winked, causing Pippin to burst into a fit of laughter. Boromir frowned down at them, and Pippin immediately launched into a complicated tale involving a lazy summer afternoon, a very poorly crafted raft, a robin, some mushrooms, and two young hobbits getting in over their heads. Pippin's words stumbled over themselves, and Merry interrupted occasionally, and Boromir listened to them for quite some time with a contented smile on his face.
By the time the story was over, they were all sitting together in a small clearing some way from their camp, the grass sweet-smelling and cool beneath them. It wasn't long before the lesson was forgotten completely. Boromir sat between the hobbits, and they occasionally leaned over him as they spoke, and two eager, lovely faces would look up at him and he found that he truly did not want the evening to end.
When Boromir laughed out loud at yet another near-unbelievable tale, Pippin launched himself into the man's arms. Boromir was caught by surprise and found himself flat on his back, staring up into Pippin's eyes with a rather startled expression shining up from his own gaze.
"If only you would do that more often, Boromir!" Pippin cried out, impulsively kissing the end of Boromir's nose.
"Laugh, you mean?" Boromir questioned.
"Oh, yes," Merry said quickly, nodding as he leaned over to look down at Boromir. "It's a lovely sound, and we don't hear it often enough."
Pippin looked over at Merry with an impish grin. "Why, I think I'd like to hear it again. Wouldn't you?"
"I would," Merry replied.
With that, Boromir found himself with double armfuls of giggling hobbits intent at finding every ticklish spot on his body. He tried to contain his helpless laughter, but failed miserably. When he started to tickle back, however, Merry and Pippin relented and pulled away from him. They watched as he wiped a tear form his eye, still chuckling softly, before he gave them a bit of a frown.
"That was hardly fair," he accused. "Two of you, against just one of me? I didn't stand a chance."
Though they knew he was only teasing, Pippin and Merry looked solemnly back at him. "No," Merry said.
"You certainly didn't," Pippin agreed. He paused, then glanced over to Merry. "Did he ever?"
"No, never," Merry said. "Not a single chance in the whole of the world, against us."
Boromir barely had the opportunity to register the change in Merry's tone of voice before both hobbits were on top of him again. His eyes closed and he swallowed when he felt two pairs of lips tenderly kissing his cheeks. A sigh escaped past his lips, and he opened his eyes again, feeling just a little bemused as Pippin's hand came up to turn his face so that he could be gifted with the most tender of kisses. They shared his mouth between them, and he watched their flushed faces as they tasted his lips. Each kiss seemed sweeter, more wonderful, than the last, and he wondered if perhaps he was dreaming.
Pippin and Merry paused for a brief moment, looking up into each other's eyes and seeming to share a wordless conversation. They leaned over to each other and shared a kiss of their own, and Boromir bit his lip so hard he tasted blood; they were truly a sight to behold. He held them tenderly to his chest as they began to kiss him anew, and he returned their kisses with unending gentleness, just as they knew he would. Soft sounds of excitement caressed his ears just as two hands started to ease away his clothing.
It wasn't until then that Boromir began to protest, but Merry smothered the words with his lips. He softly whispered, "We want to. Please don't ask us to stop," and Boromir's only response was a light moan that was part surrender, part joy, and all theirs.
Sweet hands and sweeter lips soon played across his flesh; teasing, caressing, tasting, pulling moans from him that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul. His own hands slid over smooth skin and through soft, curling hair, guiding them over and over again back to his lips, for he knew he would never tire of such gentle, loving kisses. Try as he might, he could never drink his fill from their mouths.
They stayed in that spot for quite some time. All was quiet save for three voices joined in expressing exquisite pleasure. None was aware of how long passed, nor did they truly care. The only thing that was of any importance was now, as they were tangled together, flesh against flesh and mouth against mouth. Boromir delighted in watching Merry and Pippin share their pleasure together, and they delighted in seeing his fair face alit with the ecstasy that they were bringing him.
Too soon, there was no more any of them could bear. Merry and Pippin stifled their full, loud cries against Boromir's flesh; Boromir's raw, unashamed moan was given up to the trees above. He held them both to him for a little while longer, unwilling and unable to let them go. As they slowly pulled away, he looked into their faces, and saw the tears shining in Pippin's eyes. Boromir and Merry smiled at him, and they both kissed him again. Boromir stroked the hair back from Pippin's face, as Merry leaned in and breathed into Pippin's ear, "I love you."
The return to the camp was a quiet affair. Merry and Pippin whispered between themselves, and sounded an occasional laugh, as they settled down to sleep in a spot between Frodo and Sam, and Boromir.
"Merry."
"Yes, Pip?"
"You've got a twig stuck in your hair."
"Oh..."
"Here, here, I've got it."
"Thank you, Pippin."
"You're very welcome. Merry?"
"Yes?"
"All in all, I'd say this was an excellent day."
"Oh, yes." Merry settled down on his side, looking across at Boromir with a soft smile as Pippin snuggled up behind him. Boromir looked back at them both with an expression that was in part amazement--as though he was still not quite able to believe what had just transpired -- but was also intensely pleased. Merry's smile broadened as he saw such happiness on the man's face, and judging from the arm squeezing him tightly, he assumed that Pippin approved of it as well.
Merry gave a contented sigh and wrapped his fingers around Pippin's hand. "An excellent day, indeed," he said, and closed his eyes. He toyed with the idea of pretending to sleep when Pippin nudged him a few moments later, but he decided against it.
"What, Pippin?"
"I think we should keep him."
"I won't argue with that idea. I think, you could almost say he's lost without us."
"Terribly lost. I think he needs us."
"And he will be our very own."
"Yes, that's it. Our very own."
"Pippin?"
"Yes, Merry?"
"What a splendid idea this was."
---
